The Night's Dawn Trilogy (200 page)

I can’t take them all with me, though. I want to, dear Jesus, but I really can’t. Please understand.

She tried not to let the guilt show as she led the maids through the house back to her room. They were carrying the parcels
and cases Louise had bought after they’d left Bennett Field. Clothes more suitable to travelling on a starship (Gen had a
ball choosing them), and other items she thought they might need. She remembered Joshua explaining how difficult and dangerous
star travel could be. Not that it bothered him, he was so brave.

Thankfully Aunt Celina hadn’t returned yet, even though it was now late afternoon. Explaining the baggage away would have
been impossible.

After shooing the maids out of her room Louise kicked her shoes off. She wasn’t used to high heels, the snazzy black leather
was beginning to feel like some kind of torture implement. Her new jacket followed them onto the floor, and she pushed the
balcony doors open.

Duke was low in the sky, emitting a lovely golden tint, which in turn made the gardens seem rich with colour. A cooling breeze
was just strong enough to sway the branches on the trees. Out on the largest pond, black and white swans performed a detailed
waltz around clumps of fluffy tangerine water lilies, while long fountains foamed quietly behind them. It was all so deceitfully
tranquil; with the wall shielding the sound of the busy road outside she would never know she was in the heart of the largest
city on the planet. Even Cricklade was noisier at times.

Thinking about her home made her skin cold. It was something she’d managed to avoid all day. I wonder what Mummy and Daddy
are being made to do by their possessors? Evil, vile acts if that awful Quinn Dexter has any say in the matter.

Louise shivered, and retreated back into the room. Time for a long soak in the bath, then change for dinner. By the time Aunt
Celina rose tomorrow morning, she and Gen would be gone.

She took off her new blouse and skirt. When she removed her bra she felt her breasts carefully. Were they more sensitive?
Or was she just imagining it? Were they supposed to be sensitive this early in a pregnancy? She wished she’d paid more attention
to the family planning lessons at school, rather than giggling with her friends at the pictures of men’s privates.

“Looks like you’re getting lonely, Louise; having to do that for yourself.”

Louise yelped, grabbing up the blouse and holding it in front of her like a shield.

Roberto pushed aside the curtain at the far end of the room where he’d concealed himself and sauntered forward. His grin was
arctic.

“Get out!” Louise screamed at him. The terrible first heat of embarrassment was turning to cold anger. “
Out
, you filthy fat oaf!”

“What you need is a close friend,” Roberto gloated. “Someone who can do it for you. It’s a lot better that way.”

Louise took a step back, her body shaking with revulsion. “Get out, now,” she growled at him.

“Or what?” His hand swept wide, the gesture taking in the pile of cases which the maids had left. “Going somewhere? What exactly
have you been up to today?” “How I spend my time is none of your business. Now go, before I ring for a maid.”

Roberto took another step towards her. “Don’t worry, Louise, I won’t say anything to my mother. I don’t rat on my friends.
And we are going to be friends, aren’t we? Real good friends.”

She took a pace back, glancing around. The bell cord to summon a maid was on the other side of the bed, near him. She’d never
make it. “Get away from me.”

“I don’t think so.” He started to undo the buttons on his shirt. “See, if I have to leave now I might just tell the police
about that so-called farmhand friend of yours.”

“What?” she barked in shock.

“Yeah. Thought that might adjust your attitude. They make me do history at school, see. I don’t like it, but I do know who
Fletcher Christian was. Your friend is using a false name. Now why would he do that, Louise? In a bit of trouble back on Kesteven,
was he? Bit of a rebel is he?”

“Fletcher is not in any trouble.”

“Really? Then why don’t I just go make that call?”

“No.”

Roberto licked his lips. “Now that’s a whole lot nicer, Louise. We’re cooperating with each other. Aren’t we?”

She just clutched the blouse closer to her, mind feverish.

“Aren’t we?” he demanded.

Louise nodded jerkily.

“Okay, that’s better.” He peeled off his shirt.

Louise couldn’t help the tears stinging her eyes. No matter what, she told herself, I won’t let him. I’d sooner die; it would
be cleaner.

Roberto unbuckled his belt, and started to take down his trousers. Louise waited until they were around his knees, then bolted
for the bed.

“Shit!” Roberto yelled. He made a grab for her. Missed. Nearly toppled over as the trouser fabric tangled around his shins.

Louise flung herself on top of the bed and started to scurry over the blankets. She’d left it on the other side. Roberto was
cursing behind her, grappling with his trousers. She reached the end of the bed and flopped down, hands reaching underneath.

“No you don’t.” Roberto grasped an ankle and started dragging her back.

Louise squealed, kicking backwards with her free foot.

“Bitch.”

He landed on top of her, making her cry out at the pain of such a weight. She clawed desperately at the mattress, pulling
both of them to the edge of the bed. Her hands could just reach the carpet. Roberto laughed victoriously at her ineffectual
struggling, and shifted around until he was straddling her buttocks. “Going somewhere?” he taunted. Her head and shoulders
hung over the edge of the bed, vast waves of hair flooding the sheets. He sat up, panting slightly, and brushed the hair off
her back, enjoying the flawless skin which was exposed. Louise strained below him, as if she was still trying to wriggle free.
“Stop fighting it,” he told her. His cock was hugely erect. “It’s going to happen, Louise. Come on, you’ll love it when we
get started. I’m going to last all night long with you.” His hands pushed below her, reaching for her breasts.

Louise’s desperate fingers finally found the cool, smooth shape of carved wood she was searching for under the bed. She grabbed
at it, groaning in revulsion as Roberto’s hands squeezed. But the feel of Carmitha’s shotgun sent resolution surging through
her veins, inflaming and chilling at the same time.

“Let me up,” she begged. “Please, Roberto.”

The obscene prowling hands were stilled. “Why?”

“I don’t want it like this. Turn me over. Please, it’ll make it easier for you. This hurts.”

There was a moment’s silence. “You won’t struggle?” He sounded uncertain.

“I won’t. I promise. Just not like this.”

“I do like you, Louise. Really.”

“I know.”

The weight against the small of her back lifted. Louise tensed, gathering every ounce of strength. She pulled the shotgun
clear from under the bed and twisted around, swinging it in a wide arc, trying to predict where his head would be. Roberto
saw it coming. He managed to bring his arms up in an attempt to ward off the blow, ducking to one side—

The shotgun barrel caught him a glancing blow above his left ear, the end of the pump mechanism thumping his guarding hand.
Nothing like as devastating as Louise wanted it. But he cried out in pain and shock, clamping his hands over the side of his
head. He started to keel over.

Louise tugged her legs out from under him and tumbled off the bed, almost losing hold of the shotgun. She could hear Roberto
sob behind her. It was a sound which sent a frightening burst of glee into her head. It freed her from all that genteel refinement
which Norfolk had instilled, put civilization aside.

She climbed to her feet, got a better grip on the shotgun, and brought it crashing down on the top of Roberto’s skull.

•  •  •

The anxious knocking on the door was the next thing Louise was conscious of. For some inexplicable reason she’d sunk down
onto the floor and started to weep. Her whole body was cold and trembling, yet her skin was prickled with perspiration.

The knock came again, more urgent this time. “Lady Louise?”

“Fletcher?” she gasped. Her voice was so weak.

“Yes, my lady. Are you all right?”

“I.. .” A giggle became choked in her throat. “One minute, Fletcher.” She looked around, and gagged. Roberto was sprawled
over the bed. Blood from his head wound had produced a huge stain over the sheet.

Dear Jesus, I’ve killed him. They’ll hang me.

She stared at the body for a long, quiet moment, then got up and wrapped a towel around her nakedness.

“Is anyone with you?” she asked Fletcher.

“No, my lady. I am alone.”

Louise opened the door, and he slipped inside. For some reason the sight of the corpse didn’t seem to shake him.

“My lady.” The voice was so soft with sympathy and concern. He opened his arms, and she pressed against him, trying not to
cry again.

“I had to,” she blurted. “He was going to… ” Fletcher’s hand stroked her wild hair, smoothing and combing it with every stroke.
Within a minute it was a dry, shiny cloak again. And somehow the pain inside was lessened.

“How did you know?” she murmured.

“I could sense your anguish. A mighty silent shout, it was.”

“Oh.” Now there was a strange notion, that the possessed could listen to your thoughts. There’s so much badness inside my
head.

Fletcher met her troubled gaze. “Did that animal violate you, my lady?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“He is lucky. Had he done so, I would have dispatched him to the beyond myself. Nor would such a passage be pleasant for him.”

“But, Fletcher, he is dead. I did it.”

“No, lady, he lives.”

“The blood… ”

“A cut to the head always looks far worse than it is. Come now, I will have you shed no more tears for this beast.”

“Oh, Lord, what a dreadful mess we’re in. Fletcher, he suspects something about you. I can’t just go to the police and file
a rape charge. He’d tell them about you. Besides”—she drew an annoyed breath—“I’m not quite sure which of us Aunt Celina would
believe.”

“Very well. We shall have to leave now.”

“But—”

“Can you think of another course to follow?”

“No,” she said sadly.

“Then you must prepare; pack what you need. I shall go and tell the little one, also.”

“What about him?” She indicated Roberto’s unconscious form.

“Dress yourself, my lady. I will deal with him.”

Louise picked through the boxes and went into the en suite bathroom. Fletcher was already leaning over Roberto.

She put on a pair of long dark blue trousers and a white T-shirt. Black sneakers completed the outfit: a combination unlike
anything she’d ever worn before—unlike anything Mother had ever
allowed
her to wear. But practical, she decided. Just wearing such garments made her feel different. The rest of the things she needed
went into one of the suitcases she’d bought. She was halfway through packing when she heard Roberto’s frightened shout from
the bedroom. It trailed off into a whimper. Her initial impulse was to rush in and find out what was happening. Instead, she
took a deep breath, then looked in the mirror and finished tying back her hair.

When she did finally emerge back into the bedroom, Roberto had been trussed up with strips of blanket. He stared at her with
wide, terrified eyes. The gag in his mouth muffled his desperate shouts.

She walked over to the bed and looked down at him. Roberto stopped trying to speak.

“I’m going to return to this house one day,” she said. “When I do, I’ll have my father and my husband with me. If you’re smart,
you won’t be here when we arrive.”

•  •  •

Duchess was already rising by the time they arrived at Bennett Field. Every aircraft on Norfolk had been pressed into military
service (including the aeroambulance from Bytham), ready to fly the newly formed army out to the rebel-held islands. Over
a third of them were parked in long ranks over the aerodrome’s close-mown grass. There were a lot of khaki-uniformed troops
milling around outside the hangars.

Three guards stood beside the entrance to the administration block, a sergeant and two privates. There hadn’t been any at
lunchtime when Louise had met Furay.

Genevieve climbed down out of the cab and gave them a sullen look. The young girl was becoming very short-tempered.

“Sorry, miss,” the sergeant said. “No civilians permitted in here. The aerodrome is under army control now.”

“We’re not civilians, we’re passengers,” Genevieve said indignantly. She glared up at the big man, who couldn’t help a grin.

“Sorry, love, but you still can’t come in.”

“She’s telling the truth,” Louise said. She fished a copy of their transport contract with the
Far Realm
out of her bag and proffered it to the sergeant.

He shrugged and flicked through the pages, not really reading it.

“The
Far Realm
is a military ship,” Louise said hopefully.

“I’m not sure… ”

“These two young ladies are the nieces of the Earl of Luffenham,” Fletcher said. “Now surely your superior officer should
be made aware of their travel documentation? I’m sure nobody would want the Earl to have to call the general commanding this
base.”

The sergeant nodded gruffly. “Of course. If you’d like to wait inside while I get this sorted out. My lieutenant is in the
mess at the moment. It might take a while.”

“You’re very kind,” Louise said.

The sergeant managed a flustered smile.

They were shown into a small ground-floor office overlooking the field. The privates brought their bags in for them, both
smiling generously at Louise.

“Have they gone?” she asked after the door was closed.

“No, my lady. The sergeant is most discomforted by our presence. One of the privates has been left a few yards down the corridor.”

“Damnation!” She went over to the single window. From her position she could see nearly a third of the field. If anything
the planes seemed to be packed even tighter than this morning; there were hundreds of them. Squads of militia were marching
along the grass roadways, shouted at by sergeant majors. A great many people were involved with loading big cargo planes.
Flat-topped trucks trundled past the squads, delivering more matÉriel.